


An Injured Lion Still Wants to Roar

by GillyTweed



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Caretaker Clarke, F/F, Injured lexa, Panic Attacks, Were-Creatures, Werelion, possessive clarke, post season two, theres like one beheading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GillyTweed/pseuds/GillyTweed
Summary: Clarke was dead, Lexa was about to be via Pauna, and now a giant lion was fighting said Pauna for the right to eat her. Honestly, if she was about to die, couldn't they make it go a little bit quicker?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Another new fic! (I know. Bad Gilly, finish your other stories Gilly) I swear I'm working on them! This was mostly finished so I thought I'd post it. 
> 
> This ones a bit different. Clarke's a werelion for one, so that'll be fun, as well as a chunk of the Ark population! Honestly, this is a shameless "Clarke is protective of Lexa"fic, cause there are never enough of them and they are my life force.
> 
> I think the summary is a bit misleading, but I can't really think of a better one so meh

An Injured Lion Still Wants to Roar  
Pairing: Clexa  
Rating: Children Shouldn't Read Alone

* * *

The exhausted brunette pressed her back further against the tree, muscles tensed and sweat trickling down her spine. Her breathing was erratic coming in shaky gulps, and adrenaline rushed through her, just under her skin, in a coursing stream. She couldn’t see the chaos that was going on around the other side of the thick trunk that shielded her, but the sounds of violent roars and pained screams were very telling. Her sword was in a white knuckled grip, the leather wrapped around the hilt sticking to her palm.  
  
They hadn’t meant to disturb the Pauna. They’d charted their path well away from its feeding grounds, yet it had come bellowing through the trees, crushing two of her guards and their horses in a matter of moments. She and her remaining three warriors had scattered, yelling to rendezvous at their next campsite.  
  
It hadn’t exactly gone to plan as the Pauna somehow drove them together, riding frantically side by side trying to escape the beast as it drove them significantly off course. It was a problem she would leave for if they survived this ordeal. Only after she and another of her guards were thrown from their mounts did they stop to fight. It was the same Pauna she and Clarke had escaped from. Round white scars littered its face and arms, proof that not even the bite of a gun could take the beast down quickly.  
  
Swallowing thickly, she couldn’t help but remember the blonde Skaiheda. After the Mountain, she’d disappeared. Lexa had sent out scouts trying to find her, returning with a shredded blue leather jacket, and a crushed pistol. They’d been found in the footprint of a giant cat, larger than any mountain lions print that the trackers had ever seen, yet no body was ever recovered.  
That fact filled the young Heda with even more guilt. The feeling didn’t even compare to the regret she felt after she’d taken the Mountain Man’s deal. Her decisions were what drove Clarke to leave the relative safety of Arkadia. It was her fault that the blonde was most likely dead.  
  
As a sign of respect, she’d returned the items to the Skaikru, delivering them herself as a sign of good faith. Abby had been the one to receive her at the gate, but didn’t allow them inside. An understandable choice given the circumstances. The older Griffin had taken the items silently, listening almost frozen as the story of their retrieval was relayed to her. She’d seemed more shocked rather than mournful at the news that her daughter may be dead at the hands of a giant predatory cat.  
  
Clenching her jaw, she pressed her head back against the tree, holding back the burning tears she felt threatening to spill over. No matter what, Clarke’s death, disappearance, what have you, was her fault and it left her heart hollow and a knot wound tightly in her stomach. Shaking her head, she forced back her rising emotions. Now wasn’t the time to cry; she needed to survive the next few minutes, then she could wallow in her harrowing feelings.  
  
An ear-splitting roar and a scream snapped her back to the current situation, and she watched in horror as the last of her guard sailed through the air past her hiding place, crashing against a tree with a sickening crunch. His body hit the ground at an odd angle, giving her a clear view of the mutilation the Pauna was capable of.  
  
The silence that followed was deafening, only her harsh breaths, much too loud in her own ears, breaking the quiet. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and the muscles in her neck and jaw jumped without consent. Ducking just in time to avoid having her head crushed by a muscle bound primate arm, she dived to the forest floor, thorns and rocks scratching at her skin as she clumsily rolled away. The gargantuan limb wrapped around the trunk as she stumbled to her feet, stripping bark and splintering wood until the tree came crashing down in a spray of splinters, shaking the ground like an earthquake. She cursed silently as her knees gave out, the roiling earth and flying branches breaking any stability her trembling frame had.  
  
The Pauna roared, jaws gaping wide as it beat its chest in victory. Stabbing her blade into the ground, she scrambled up, ignoring the small trickles of blood and burning wounds caused by the soaring wood. Fighting against heavy limbs, she brought up her sword, determined to at least draw blood before being crushed under pounding fists. The Pauna stalked towards her, toying with her now that it knew it had won.  
  
She could feel her teeth creak and groan as her jaw clenched. She’d always accepted that her life would end violently, but she’d never imagined it would be in such ironic conditions. She’d managed to survive this enemy because she’d had Clarke by her side, and now that the blonde wasn’t here, the result of her own choice’s, Lexa was doomed. Taking careful steps back, she yearned for the other girl’s presence. It had always seemed to calm her, make her think in ways that she couldn’t before. If Clarke was with her, she was certain she could get out of this situation.  
  
The Pauna lunged, swiping her legs out from under her with a gleeful roar. Her sword flew from her fingers and her back hit the ground with bruising force. Any air that she’d managed to inhale in her fear disappeared in a painful whoosh, leaving a burning tightness that had her choking. If she lived, she was certain that her back would be a mess of bruises and cuts. A large meaty hand wrapped around her leg in a bruising grip, pulling her towards what was most likely going to be her bloody and painful end.  
  
The Pauna held her by her calf, upside down with blood rushing to her head. She could barely breath and darkness seemed to creep around the edges of her vision. Well, this seemed to be the end. At least she’d managed to achieve relative peace between the clans, right? That could count as a success. She’d lived almost as long as one of her longest living predecessors, so that’s another achievement. She’d lived to see the destruction of the Mountain… She’d gotten to meet Clarke. Finally, her tears decided that they wouldn’t wait any longer, now that she faced death. They dripped into her hairline, some falling to land feet below among the loam on the forest floor.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”  
  
The words slipped breathlessly from her lips, unrestrained, releasing her only regret into the wind. The Pauna seemed to sense her resignation, snarling at her lack of resistance. The muscles in the beast’s arm bunched and coiled, preparing to smash her frail body into oblivion, however, instead of pain and crunching bones, a new, teeth rattling roar resounded through the clearing, making the Pauna freeze. The roar sounded again, low, gravelly and _loud_ , making the murderous primate whip around, bringing her with it. The movement sent a jolting pain through her knee and hip, dragging a low scream from her throat. The grip around her leg had tightened, making the bones in her calf grind painfully.  
  
Another roar, angry and vicious, rang out closer this time, prompting her to twist her body to try and see what new enemy had entered the fray. A choked sob escaped her at the new beast that stalked low along the ground. The lion was huge, easily twice as large as a warhorse, its muscles rippling under a golden yellow coat. It was female, neck mane-less, making its body sleek and agile. The feline’s face was scrunched into a snarl, fangs flashing and pale yellow eyes burning with aggressive instinct.  
  
The Pauna seemed unsure of how to react. It was away from its normal territory, so could it be that it was infringing on the lions? Lexa didn’t have time to ponder this question as the lion lunged, its teeth tearing at the arm that held her aloft, its claws slicing long gaping wounds into the Pauna’s chest. The arm jerked, and with a sickening crunch, fell to the ground. Unfortunately taking her along with it.  
  
Her landing was jarring, making her vision spin and bile rise in her throat. The contents of her stomach roiled rebelliously as blood from the severed limb pooled around her. The hand of the arm was still clamped firmly around her leg, twisting her knee rather painfully, leaving her trapped and helpless as she watched the two beasts clash.  
  
The lion had moved to place itself between her and the Pauna. It almost seemed protective as it lunged to savagely swipe at its opponent. A small spark of recognition flared in the back of her mind, bringing forth memories of reports and rumours that had travelled to the Capital.  
  
About a month after the Mountain, reports of a massive lion wandering the forest surfaced. It had seemed harmless enough, leaving villages alone and keeping to itself. That is, until it had defended an entire village singlehandedly from bandits. When the first reports had reached her, she’d thought nothing of it, thinking the bandits had simply stumbled into trouble that had been advantageous for her people, but her opinion had quickly changed when rumours had whispered of other events. The lion saving a family traveling on the road from muggers. The lion rescuing a child from drowning in a river.  
  
Her people had named the lion a protective spirit, praising the beast and leaving offerings when it was sighted in the area. She’d never thought much of it, thinking that if it helped her people it was to be left alone. Yet, now here it was, saving her from certain death.  
  
A strangled cry forced her to focus, watching as the lion’s jaws locked around the Pauna’s throat. Blood soaked its muzzle as it bit down, dripping to dye the fur of its chest a pale red. The Pauna let out one last rage filled howl as its body collapsed, its life flowing to mix with the damp soil. The lion waited a moment, ravaging the throat in its grasp even more to ensure the death of its foe. When the feline did finally release its grip, the tension in its body seemed to drain away, all aggression gone.  
  
Lexa breathed quietly, watching the beast as it licked the blood from its jaws, hoping it would forget about her and simply leave. While she was trapped momentarily, she knew she would be able to escape eventually. She just needed the time to do so, and having the lion around to potentially eat her would make escape rather difficult.  
  
Her breath stuttered slightly as the lion turned to her, blood still dripping from its fur. A renewed rush of endorphin's flowed through her, but weaker this time as her energy was spent. The lion padded towards her, stance as unthreatening as a predator could make it.  
  
As it drew nearer, she took in the actual scale of the lion’s size. It was ginormous. Its shoulder was easily taller than her, maybe even higher than some of her taller warriors. Its paw could span her torso, wide and heavy with claws that had bits of the Pauna's flesh still hooked on them. She could feel herself shake as it lowered its head, trembling fingers gripping the blood soaked grass beneath her. The Pauna’s arm had trapped her on her back, giving her no choice but to stare as the fangs, longer than daggers and twice as sharp, came ever closer. Her sword was nowhere in sight, making her feel even more vulnerable than she already was.  
  
The lion nosed the severed arm slightly, the small jolt making her hiss as pain panged in her knee. The lion paused to look at her, its ears flicking in what could be described as a thoughtful manner. After a moment, it adjusted its stance slightly, rearing up powerfully on its hind legs, then dropping to stomp harshly on the wrist of the arm. The action had the injured warrior crying out, pain shooting up her leg, but it also loosened the grip of the hand keeping her trapped. She choked out a sigh of relief as blood began flowing back to her leg, and wincing as she pulled the limb from its prison. She could already imagine, and feel, the bruise that would form to cover her skin. Groaning, she tried to slide back, flopping back down when the ever growing pool of blood refused to give her any traction. The lion huffed, almost in amusement, at her failure.  
  
Before she could register what was happening, the lions head was near her face, teeth grasping the straps across her chest that secured her swords sheath to her back. With gentle tugs it dragged her to a clean section of grass, laying her down as though she were made of glass. Lexa blinked up at the lion in surprise. With how gentle the lion was being, she was rather confident that this was the lion she’d heard about, but it was difficult to look at such a powerful creature and see it as a protector rather than a predator.  
  
The beast sat beside her, tail swishing lazily from side to side. It tilted its head, looking at her with a curious expression. The snarl was long gone from its face, but its eyes still seemed to hold an intense spark. Before she could read more into it, a rough dry tongue was lapping at her face, stripping away the blood, dirt and war paint. She flailed, pushing the lions face as it cleaned her with insistent swipes of its tongue. She sputtered indignantly as the lion moved, swiping its tongue cross her chest and legs, ridding her clothes of a significant amount of the blood that had coated the fabric. When finally done, the feline straightened, a feeling of smugness in its posture.  
  
Lexa couldn’t do much more than stare straight ahead, unsure of how to react to the situation. Her emotions were a jumble. The last traces of fear had dissipated when the lion moved her away from the blood, but now she felt confusion, relief, and a sense of odd familiarity as the lion watched her with amused eyes. Shaking herself, she sat up slowly with a groan. The lion took half a step back, as though to give her space.  
  
When she didn’t sway or fall back down, the lion huffed, satisfied. It turned promptly, tail flicking over her head playfully as it padded away. She looked after it, completely baffled at what had just occurred. The feline didn’t turn back, slipping away into the tree’s now that its job was done.  
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she stood shakily, wincing as her knee throbbed. Scanning the ground, she spotted her sword. After hobbling over to retrieve it, she used it as a makeshift cane to prop herself up. Now sufficiently mobile, she looked at the forest surrounding her and realized one thing.  
  
She had no idea where she was. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now the story really begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next (and first official) chapter of this story. I got a really positive response for this so I hope you all like it as much as the prologue.

An Injured Lion Still Wants to Roar chapter 2

Pairing: Clexa

Rating: Children Shouldn’t Read Alone (T)

* * *

The Commander’s arms ached as she swung her sword. The resulting clash of metal sent jarring tremors through her body, making her teeth rattle uncomfortably. Exhaustion had set in long ago, yet she fought on. Cutting down enemy after enemy, parrying strike after strike. This had been the norm, day after day, one battle after the other. The chaos of war such a constant, and the drain of its intensity, leaving no energy to even think. All the brunette could do was keep moving, keep fighting, and keep surviving. Cutting down her opponent, she had a moment of reprieve, letting her scan the battlefield with weary eyes.

The bodies of both Trikru and Azgeda warriors littered the ground, blood draining into the churned mud, creating a reddish paste that coated every surface. In hindsight, she should have known the Azgeda would take advantage of the Mountains defeat. With such a large enemy vanquished, everyone, every Clan, had let down their guard, giving the Ice Queen the perfect opportunity to attack. This, of course, had resulted in tens of battles, almost all she had been present for, and fought in.

The damp soil squelched under her boots as she turned. Pushing away the heaviness of her limbs and the pain of her injuries, old and new, she searched for another foe. The gaze of an Azgeda warrior met her own war painted eyes. As one, they moved towards each other, focus unwavering and adjusting grips on blood soaked weapons.

When she was a few feet from the warrior, there was a whistle and a hollow thunk. Then she was on her back, her lungs refusing to suck in precious oxygen, and her sword missing from her hand. The blue of the sky burned her eyes, the vibrant colour intense and unbroken by clouds. The shaft of the arrow buried in her shoulder guard was the only thing visible other than the vast expanse of blue. The arrow head scratched her skin harshly, having not pierced deep enough to seriously injure, but it still drew blood, the sticky substance pooling under her armour.

The Ice Nation warrior towered above her, blade glinting cruelly and dripping with red. She couldn’t move as he looked down at her, smirking maliciously. How long had she been fighting? Minutes? No, the sun had moved. It must have been longer than that. All the battles had blurred together, leaving her thoughts swimming. Blinking tiredly, she looked past the warrior, taking in all the blue. It was such a beautiful colour. Without consent, memories of piercing blue eyes swam through her mind. A pang of sadness and guilt stung in her chest and closed her throat, making it even harder to breath.

Three months since Clarke's disappearance and the ache in her chest had barely faded. Despite knowing her decision had saved her people, it didn’t stop the overwhelming guilt that consumed her behind closed doors, or the intense longing she felt to have the blonde by her side. Their time together had been short, but the feelings she had developed were strong, howling in her chest like a beast fighting to get out. Clarke had been her match, something she’d never dreamed of finding again after Costia, yet she’d appeared in a burst of flame, falling from the sky with a bang that could be heard around the world.

A harsh kick from the warrior above her brought her back to reality and its dangers. The sharp blow to her torso had her curling into herself as pain blossomed along her ribs, accompanied by a series of cracking sounds. That couldn’t be good.

Her fingers searched for her sword, but her arms felt like lead, heavy and weighed down by layers of mud. All she could do was watch helplessly as the warrior moved to strike, the blade descending down to cleave into her flesh. There was a roaring in her ears that drowned out the screams and sounds of battle that surrounded them.

Then suddenly, the warrior was gone. Or rather, his head was.

The headless body swayed, jerking awkwardly as the body realized its brain was suddenly absent, before falling back and landing in the mud with a wet thud. It was eerily quiet, as though the world was holding its breath. Wearily, she tried to look for her saviour, cursing softly when her body refused to obey. Her face was half pressed into the mud, blinding one eye, but she still had a clear view of a section of the battle field.

Several yards down the field, one of her warriors, an older warrior, stood frozen, eyes wide in horror. Just beside her, an Azgeda warrior was in the same state. Their weapons were locked, as though they had been fighting only moments before. Their gazes were intense, staring in pure terror at something out of her sight.

Water seeped into her clothes as she attempted to move again, the chill harsh and painful. Something huffed behind her, deep and feral, making her freeze. Sound seemed to rush back into her awareness. The heavy breaths and steady footfalls behind her curled form. The absolute silence that had fallen over the rest of the field. She swallowed harshly as she felt a warm rush of air puff over her face, stinking of long dead meat.

A tremor shook her body, seizing her muscles in an iron grip, and it takes a moment for her to realize its cause. Fear. She was afraid. The fear only intensifies as a muzzle prods her, turning her over onto her back to stare into the face of her saviour, and quite possibly, killer.

Her gaze meets calm, intelligent yellow eyes. A huge paw came to rest on her chest lightly, breaking the arrow shaft still embedded in her shoulder guard, its width easily spanning her torso, but was quickly removed when she couldn’t help the cough that escaped her lips. A spray of dark blood spotted the lions fur, a result of her split lip and bit cheek.

The feline seemed to recoil at this, muscles bunching and coiling as though in anger. It swung its head up, scanning the field, taking in the scattered bodies and frozen warriors. Adrenaline exploded through her veins in a rush. Flopping onto her stomach, she searched for her sword, squinting as mud slid mercilessly into her eyes. She didn’t know what the lions purpose was. Even though it had saved her from the Pauna several months ago, the feelings of aggression and hostility that rolled off the beast in waves sent jolts of primal fear through her exhausted body. 

Gritting her teeth, her fingers scrabbled in the mud, pulling her beaten body through filth, water and blood, and just as her fingers brushed the leather wraps on the hilt of her sword, a heavy paw descended onto her back, once again pinning her firmly. The paw pressed heavily on her, making her torso sink deeper into the mud. A choked whimper escaped her unbidden as her ribs creaked and groaned.

Heat radiated off the lion as it sat beside her, paw resting on her shoulder blades. Its claws remained sheathed as a rumble vibrated from its chest until it turned into a full blown roar, pulsating across the battlefield as though it were declaring its conquest. It sounded like a thunderclap, nature bellowing its victory.

When the roar tapered off, the paw lifted, letting her lunge forward again, but was quickly stopped when powerful jaws gripped the back of her jacket and lifted effortlessly. Another whimper keened in her throat as her fingers just barely brushed the hilt. Her last chance at possible survival withering and dying before her eyes.

She hung helplessly, held up by the straps of her jacket and sword sheath, like she was a kitten, powerless and weak. For all she knew, that’s exactly what this creature thought of her, a defenseless and poor child that couldn’t care for herself. She let out a light snort at the thought, ribs aching from the sound, as the lion turned from the battle field towards the tree line. The still standing warriors watched in shock, unsure whether to fight or run, as a beast bigger than a warhorse strolled away with their Commander. She couldn’t exactly blame them. The sight must be impossible to comprehend.

Trees quickly enveloped them, the lion’s long strides carrying them far in little time. Despite its size, the creature barely disturbed the underbrush, gliding through the flora as though it commanded nature itself. Its strides were powerful, yet graceful, making her sway gently in its grip rather than the harsh jolts she expected. The rocking was soothing, lulling her until her eyes drooped and her stiff muscles slacken. Her thoughts seemed to slow from their incomprehensible pace to a sluggish crawl, panic fading to be taken over by wary curiosity.

The beast had been acting against everything she knew about animals since its appearance. Saving humans, killing the Pauna, and going onto an active battlefield when any other animal would have fled. Purposefully attacking a warrior, then leaving her alive as though it were protecting her. Not to mention that it had essentially kidnapped her in front of two entire armies. The creature was more than odd. It was powerful and aggressive then switched to almost caring protectiveness in less than a moment. Its behaviour left her confused and worried, yet feeling strangely safe as it transported her with care.

The lion paid her no mind, focused on its task of travel, until it padded onto the bank of a roaring river, its water cutting a giant swath through the forest. Its movements were cautious, tightening its grip on her jacket and placing its paws lightly on the rocky bank. It scanned their surroundings vigilantly, huffing when it seemed to be satisfied that they were alone. Stepping quickly, it plunged into the river, lifting its head in what she assumed was a courteous attempt at keeping her dry.

However, the new angle had the straps of her jacket pressing into her ribs harshly, making her gasp and cough. Freezing water jumped up, leaving her soaked and breathless, although it did wash away a decent amount of mud. With trembling hands, she gripped at the straps across her chest, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. The lion seemed to hurry faster as it exited the rushing water, bounding across the bank and back into the trees with much less care than before.

After a few more agonizing moments of powerful, jerky leaps the lion slowed, its gentle pace returning as it lowered its head. She was set down lightly, but her body still hit the ground with more force than it was pleased with. Jolts of pain were sent up her legs, and the straps of her jacket and sheath pressed into her chest with bruising force. She barely felt the cool grass pressing against her cheek, or the heavy paw that turned her over; the pain being the only thing she could focus on. Only when small cool hands cradled her face did she manage to register the very human body kneeling next to her.

Gentle fingers wiped away the mud from around her eyes tenderly, letting her blink blearily up into the frowning face of one Clarke Griffin. Blue, conflicted eyes stared back, a war fighting within their depths. The brunette lifted a trembling hand, unsure if what she was seeing was real. Had the lion eaten her, and now she was in the afterlife with Clarke? Had she hit her head when she was fighting and this was all a hallucination? She could barely believe that it wasn't when her fingers brushed against the blonde’s cheek, leaving a trail of mud on pristine skin.

“Clarke?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she croaked the other girls name. She was alive! Clarke was alive! The overwhelming rush of relief made her weak, forcing her arm to collapse back down. She could barely think or breathe, her relief and pain overwhelming every sense. Her chest felt heavy, compressed, and darkness danced at the edge of her vision. The sound of Clarke calling her name was quiet and tinny, echoing off in the distance. She vaguely felt hands scrabbling against her chest.

And suddenly she could breath.

The weight on her chest lessened, and air seeped back into her aching lungs. Glancing down with lidded eyes, she watched as Clarke’s hands undid every strap across her chest. Her coat, her sword sheath, the straps of the dagger hidden against her chest, all undone with nimble fingers.

“Clarke?”

She croaked again, and the cool hands were back on her face.

“Lexa, can you hear me?”

She gave a jerky nod, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. The darkness was slowly receding, bringing back her awareness. Her eyes turn to Clarke again, and went wide, finally registering that the girl kneeling beside her was very, very naked. Her golden hair tumbled down bare shoulders, and her body knelt coiled, relaxed yet ready to spring if need be. The brunette refused to let her eyes travel any further, clamping them tightly shut.

“Clarke… you are unclothed…”

The hands on her face shook ever so slightly as the sound of giggles reach her ears. A breathless ‘One second’ floated through the air, and the hands were gone, as was the presence of Clarke beside her. Several moments passed, long enough for her to brave opening one eye cautiously. 

The clearing they’d stopped in was small, surrounded by tall beech and maple trees. A few shrubs and bushes grew around the bases of each trunk, effectively making a small wall surrounding the area. Craning her head, she searched for Clarke. The lion seemed to have vacated the area, although she couldn't quite understand how the giant beast had been replaced with Clarke. Scanning the clearings edges, a dark gap in the bushes caught her attention.

With a groan, she flopped onto her stomach, choking back a whimper as her ribs burned with pain. Pushing herself up with shaky arms, she stood, hunched over and trembling. Her clothes and armour were sodden, heavy with water and the remnants of mud, but she still managed to take a few wobbly steps forward. Slowly, dragging her feet through the thick grass, she made her way to the opening. Now closer, she could see the arching walls of a cave, made from naturally packed earth, supported by the roots that wove and twisted throughout. It looked as though a large tree had fallen, tearing out a large chunk of earth, creating a natural tunnel that burrowed into the ground. 

“Clarke?”

She called down hesitantly, voice hoarse and tired. Leaning against the wall, she rested for a moment, clenching her teeth as each of her injuries ached with a vengeance. She couldn’t really see through the darkness as she peered into the cave’s depths, only flickering shadows that easily could have been the imaginings of her exhausted brain. Taking a deep, almost painful, breath, she began her descent, hand firmly against the wall to guide her. 

The soil under her boots was packed down, evidence of the cave having had a long term resident. A few roots here and there had her stumbling awkwardly as her visibility slowly reduced. The only sound she could hear was her own, much too loud, breathing. 

“Clarke?”

She called again, cursing the way her voice sounded timid and scared. The light from the opening of the tunnel had dimmed, leaving her in almost complete darkness. The tree must have grown atop a natural cave opening because the passage continued on, twisting this way and that until the air grew thick and damp, and the light from the entrance reduced to nothing. 

Lexa swallowed thickly, a harsh shiver running through her body, irritating her injuries and shifting her damp clothes just enough to be irksome. The darkness seemed to press down on her senses, pushing against her eyes and resting against her skin. The feeling sent more shivers through her limbs, interrupting her steps until she was stumbling more than walking. Eventually, her legs couldn’t support her. Collapsing against the wall with a whimper, she let out a deep groan. She’d been walking for what felt like hours, but was most likely only minutes. Was Clarke even in the cave, or had she never been there in the first place? 

Her ribs twinged painfully as she slumped down, drawing a pitiful whine from her throat. Placing a shaking hand over her side, she just barely registered the groan that wasn’t her own. It was deep, yet high pitched enough to almost be a whine. A warm breath of air blew over her face, smelling of meat and blood. Tilting her head towards the breath, she reached out a shaking hand into the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing, but under her hand was soft fur, a rough nose, and rubbery lips covering large teeth. 

So that’s where the lion had gone.

Despite her vulnerable position, blind and injured, she held no fear. Exhaustion had taken it’s toll on her, mentally and physically. She couldn’t bring herself to feel afraid, even as the lion moved in the blackness, it’s fur brushing softly against the walls, sending dirt skittering. A paw pressed into her side, scooping underneath and lifting her up. It was an odd sensation, being cradled in such a way. The lion was big enough that it’s paw held her shoulders and back easily. Had the creature had any intention of fighting her forces as well as the Azgeda on the battlefield, it surely would have won considering it’s size and strength.

Now holding her limp body, the lion shuffled down the tunnel, the darkness still all encompassing. With one less limb to support it, the feline’s gait was awkward and stilted, but it moved swiftly. As moments passed, Lexa blinked tiredly, frowning slightly as a shadowy outline of the beast slowly emerged through the gloom. In time, the lions visage became clearer. It seemed calmer since it had taken her from the battlefield, and its fur was cleaned of any streaks of dirt or blood. It’s pale, yellow eyes reflected the small amount of light filling the tunnel, flashing with the disturbing intelligence that she’d glimpsed before. 

Soon the lions pace slowed, padding a few more steps into a small cavern. The stone ceiling held a large crack, allowing watery sunlight to stream in and illuminate the cave. The sound of rushing water echoed from above as it tumbled in through another crack nearer the back of the cave, telling her a river, most likely the river they’d crossed, was nearby. The walls of the cave were smooth, most likely carved out by water years ago. Craning her neck, she tried to see more, catching sight of markings near the base of the walls, and a nest of what appeared to be furs, before she collapsed back down in exhaustion. She could feel sleep tug at her eyelids as she fought to stay awake. 

The lion deposited her, albeit a bit awkwardly, on the nest, her body rolling to rest face down. Her injuries ached at the movement but it quickly subsided as her body sank into the bed of softness. Her face pressed into the furs; they smelled a bit dusty, but they were dry and more comfortable than anything she’d slept on in well over a week. Breathing a deep sigh, she relaxed, her mind going quiet for the first time in a long time.

Just before sleep took her, a low voice whispered at her side and cool hands caressed the side of her face gently.   
  
“Sleep Lex, you’re safe here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to send in a prompt, have questions about my fics, want to talk about writing, or want really inconsistent updates on my progress, come follow my tumblr @GillyTweed


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter but from Clarke's perspective, plus a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you all! This time from Clarke’s perspective. While I did promise someone here on Ao3 I’d make a comparison image to post on my tumblr so y’all know the size difference between regular people and Clarke in lion form, I am tired as butts so im going to be leaving that till later.

An Injured Lion Still wants to Roar Chapter 2  
Pairing: Clexa  
Rating: Children Shouldn’t Read Alone (T)

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Clarke watched the soon to be battlefield intently, tail lashing behind her. The ground was wet and muddy but she ignored it, letting the moisture sink into her fur as her eyes flickered to any movement upon the field. On either end of the clearing, she could see flashes of bodies moving in formation. A glint of steel here or a glimpse of white paint there. The wind smelled of sweat and oiled leather, the scent of tension thick in the air.

She’d seen this battle coming. She’d watched the battles that had come before, each ending in losses for both sides. She’d watched warriors fall as others got back up. She’d smelt the blood sinking into the ground, metallic and thick.

Shaking her head with a low snort, her attention zeroed in on the sudden silence. Earlier she’d heard the warriors as they moved, trying to outflank their opponents so they’d have the advantage. Now, there was stillness. The silence before a thunder crack.

Curling her tail closer to her body, she remained unmoving as the battle began. At first in the trees, battle cries and the first throes of death ringing out, then slowly moving into the open. Warriors paired off, a Trikru to meet each Azgeda, a blade to meet each blade.

The conflict had began just after she’d left Camp Jaha, shedding her human skin to walk within her animal form. She’d known the tensions between the Azgeda and Trikru were great, their relationship strained by the dissension between their leaders, but with the Coalition she hadn’t expected a full out war.

At first, she’d ignored it, reveling in the freedom and power her animal form gave her and using it to help where she could, but as time had gone on, the conflict became too great (and too fascinating) to dismiss. She’d found herself watching the battles, eyes zeroing in on the form of the Commander at every battle, as they did now.

Lexa looked exhausted.

The first time she’d seen her in battle, the brunette had looked tired, still healing from her run in with the Pauna, but now, she looked ready to drop. While she lunged forward, sword drawn and a snarl on her face, her skin was pale and already slick with sweat. She still favoured her leg, the limb having been used far more than it should have been after such an injury. Her swings quickly became sloppy as her arms grew tired. Clarke could feel a growl rumble in her chest as Lexa stumbled away from her last opponent, sword bloody and dripping. She wouldn’t last much longer at this rate.

The lion could feel her muscles bunching as she stood, emotion pulling her body taut as though it were a bowstring. Her human anger for the events at the Mountain dimmed in the face of her beasts possessiveness. The instinct to protect, stronger than her will and hurt, sent her paws forward without consent. She moved even quicker, body leaping over fallen trees and rocks with ease, at the sight of Lexa on the ground, an arrow in her shoulder and an Azgeda warrior smirking cruelly down at her. A deafening roar erupted from her lungs as the man kicked the fallen brunette, the battle freezing as she burst from the underbrush. The man barely had a moment to react before her paw made contact with his head, crushing bone, and tearing skin and muscle with ease.

Ignoring the fact that she had literally just ripped a man’s head off, she turned to Lexa. The brunette was curled on her side, an arm gripping her beaten ribs as she weakly tried to lift her head. Mud coated almost every inch, matting her hair and streaked across her face. She looked so fragile, so human, lying shivering in the mud. A huff escaped the feline as the feeling of instinctual protectiveness was joined by human concern, the noise making the brunette tense.

Leaning down, she nosed at Lexa’s shoulder, turning the older girl onto her back. Wide green eyes stared up at her, something akin to panic in their depths. The scent of fear and pain was overwhelming, almost drowning out the smell of blood, sweat and filth. Gently, with as little force as her powerful body would allow, she laid her paw on Lexa’s chest, breaking the arrows shaft. She’d hoped the movement would get the message of ‘stay down’ across rather nicely, but she jerked back as a cough sent dark blood spraying. Lexa was hurt worse than she’d initially thought.

Eyes flashing, she looked around the field, gaze catching each warrior in a piercing glare. There were many still standing, meaning the battle wouldn’t end for quite some time. Making a snap decision, a growl rumbled in her chest. Lexa needed medical attention now, and if she was the only one available to give it, so be it.

Returning her attention to the injured girl below her, she let out a huff at the sight of the brunette scrambling through the mud, reaching frantically for the blade that lay half buried in thick sludge. Stepping forward, she pinned her again, placing her paw gently on thin shoulders. Lifting her head high, she roared. Bellowing out her threat of harm should anyone come near.

Lifting her paw, she lowered her muzzle, feeling a slight hint of amusement as the injured girl once again lunged for her sword. Her teeth closed around the sheath and straps on the brunettes back, creating a makeshift harness that allowed Clarke to lift the small human body with ease. She flicked her ears in pity as a low whimper reached them. She wasn’t sure if the whimper was from pain or fear, but she felt a pang of guilt knowing she’d caused it in some way.

Turning towards the tree line, her gaze swept one last time over the frozen warriors. Each stood frozen, mouths gaping as their Commander was lifted, hanging helplessly from the mouth of an apex predator that was big enough to behead a man with one swipe of its paw. Flicking her tail dismissively, she turned. The warriors were not her concern, Lexa was.

She entered the trees without interruption, the humans left on the field much too shocked to do anything. It doesn’t take long for the scents of battle to fade away as she walks, covering more distance in each stride than a human could in ten. The sounds and sights of the forest envelop them, creating a calm that was almost impossible to create whilst among humans.

She felt Lexa grow limp in her grasp, hanging slack with only the straps of her coat and sheath to support her. Clarke could smell the blood that dripped under her clothes, the thick layers of dirt and grim doing almost nothing to hide it. Her tail flicked with concern, but she didn’t falter as she travelled, intent on reaching their destination quickly.

The river soon came into sight, marking their closeness to her home. Scanning the banks, she remained within the cover of the trees until she was certain that no humans were near. It would make things complicated if a grounder were to see her, the Commander hanging and dripping blood from her jaws. Once satisfied that they would go unseen, she padded to the water's edge. Lifting her head in an attempt to keep her charge from getting more wet than she already was, she stepped into the rushing water. The river moved cold and fast, sending shivers up her body as the chill rushed through her fur and over her skin. While being a shifter had it’s advantages, the least of which being able to turn into a large beast, the cold still affected her even if it was to a lesser degree.

A choking gasp snapped the lions attention to her cargo. Lexa seemed to struggle in her grip, breaths coming in stuttered, choking gasps. Alarm coursed through her body, prompting her to move faster, exiting the water in a few more giant leaps. Internally cursing, she bounded through the trees, beelining for her home as the small human continued to struggle weakly in her grasp.

Sliding to a stop in the clearing next to her cave, she set Lexa down, internally wincing as Lexa let out a whimper. With as much care as she was able, she turned the brunette over, clenching her jaw at the sight of the leather straps digging into her skin with bruising force.

Without a second thought, she shifted, body shrinking and bones cracking as her beast was tucked away deep within. Rushing to the brunettes side, she kneeled, hands cradling Lexa’s face as her fingers wiped away the mud that had gathered around her eyes.

She swallowed thickly as cloudy green iris’ stared up at her in wonder. She hadn’t exactly thought of what she would do once Lexa was aware of her presence. How she would deal with the conflicting emotions inside herself. As a beast, she’d let her emotions run their course, her animal nature allowing her to accept what she’d done more easily than if she’d faced her demons as a human. Her beast made her understand ‘kill or be killed, eat or be eaten.’ She had killed to save her people and herself. She had killed so she would not be. It forced her to understand that every brutal action, every kill or death by her hand, directly or indirectly, had been necessary for survival, and surviving was the base of who she was. Doing what was necessary was ingrained into her very being. However, her beast held no comfort in concerns to Lexa’s betrayal. Its instincts simply telling her to claim and protect what it considered hers, regardless of what her human side felt.

Breathing a shaky sigh, wincing as the smell of blood, dirt and confusion invaded her nose anew, she gazed down at Lexa, taking in the array of emotions that flit across her face. The brunette lifted a shaky hand, fingers brushing the blonde's cheek as though she couldn’t believe she was real. The older girl gazed at her with such wonderment, she could feel tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

“Clarke?”

Her name was croaked out weakly, a sob hidden under the word as the brunette’s own tears spilled over. The blonde could feel her jaw tremble with emotion. Lexa sounded so relieved, so happy she was there. She could feel her own tears threatening to fall, but they were quickly chased away by panic as the hand that gently touched her cheek dropped and eyelids drooped to cover green eyes. Lexa’s breathing was shallow and stuttered, her chest compressed by the leather straps.

“Lexa?”

Her hands scrabbled at the buckles as she called her name frantically, adrenaline making her hands shake. The brunette was unhearing, eyes dimming as consciousness threatened to leave her.

“Lexa, come on, breath!”

She cursed the maker of Lexa’s jacket as two more straps seemed to appear as soon as she’d undone one. Over time, the brunette seemed to breath easier, sucking in air as she coughed and sputtered. Finally, the accursed straps were undone, leaving Lexa gasping but conscious.

“Clarke?”

Her name was spoken in a rasp, weaker than before, but filled with more hope than disbelief, reverent, like it were a prayer. Gently, the blonde cradled her face again, tenderly stroking a thumb over a sharp cheekbone.

“Lexa, can you hear me?”

A jerky nod was her response, but it was enough to send a shiver of relief through her. Despite her anger and hurt, she didn’t want Lexa dead. The beast inside her growled long and low at the thought. It bristled at the possibility of something it considered hers being taken away.

“Clarke….”

Her eyes flicked down to take in the sight of Lexa closing her eyes tight.

“You are unclothed….”

She couldn’t help the snort that erupted from her nose. Hands shaking, she pulled back, laughter bubbling at the back of her throat. It had been so long since she’d worn clothes, she’d almost forgotten the need for them, but now, faced with Lexa’s face scrunched cutely as she tried to be polite and avert her gaze, the entire situation just seemed hilarious.

Breathing out a ‘one second’ she ran to the opening of her cave, transforming as she went. She’d found the cave at the beginning of her self exile and making it a home had taken little effort. Bounding down the tunnel, her feline eyes let her see with ease through the entire thing. Without her beast, she was certain she would be blind for at least half of the tunnel, but as a lion it wasn’t a concern.

Sliding into the cave, she skipped happily around as she gathered up the scattered furs on the ground, the memory of Lexa’s face filling her with humourous energy. Dragging them into a pile, she carefully pressed on the centre with her paws, creating a deep impression and forming a makeshift nest. Adjusting a few furs to smooth out any lumps, she turned to her little pile of human things. In it was a small bag, some charcoal, a small pile of clothes and few other odds and ends. Before she could shift to change however, she could hear the hesitant calling of her name.

The happy energy seemed to drain from her at the brunettes tone. She sounded so tired and hurt. The second calling of her name had her padding slowly back up the tunnel, the sound of Lexa’s exhaustion and fear urging her to provide care and comfort. As she neared the centre of the tunnel, she could see Lexa in the dim light, slumped against the wall and groaning in pain. The scent of distress leaked off the older girl, the sharp aroma of exhaustion and pain burning her nose as she drew closer.

Coming to stand next to the hurting warrior, she whined low in her chest, catching the girl’s attention. The sight of the older girl in such pain made her heart ache. Remaining still, she watched as Lexa lifted a trembling exploratory hand into the darkness, eyes wide and unseeing. Her touch was gentle, palm resting on her chin, fingers feeling along her nose and lips. Realizing what she was touching, Lexa seemed to slump in submission and exhaustion, uncaring of her fate now.

As limp fingers slid from her face, Clarke shuffled forward, reaching out a paw to scoop up her small human. Lifting her was awkward, but once finding her balance the lioness began to shuffle back down the tunnel. Lexa remained limp, draped over her paw, blinking tiredly and only moving to look around as they emerged into the cave.

With as much care as she could, she laid Lexa on the furs, a small purr rumbling in her chest as she relaxed into the bed. Shifting back into her human form, she knelt next to the exhausted girl. Brushing a stray lock of hair from a pale brow.

“Sleep, Lex, you’re safe here.”

It was true. Clarke could feel it within herself. She would fight to protect Lexa with all she had. Swallowing, she closed her eyes briefly at the sound of the older girl's breathing evening out. Sleep would do her good, and it would also give Clarke the opportunity to clean and dress her wounds.

With gentle hands, she stripped Lexa of her weapons and wet armour, laying them aside to clean later, removed her boots, and covered her significantly less clothed body with one of the numerous furs. Without her armour and jacket, she was clad only in a pair of thin pants and a tank top, both soaked from river water, which revealed quite a few of her injuries right off the bat.

Bruises covered her shoulders and arms, a cut on her shoulder from the arrow leaked blood sluggishly. Other smaller cuts glared angrily from pale skin, along with scars in varying states of healing. With careful hands, she felt along the other girls ribs, sighing in relief when she didn’t feel any lumps or shifting bones. It seemed her injuries might not have been as severe as she’d first assumed.

Feeling her concern lessen, she stood and padded over to her pile of human objects. Shrugging into a shirt, then sliding on a pair of pants, she snatched up her bag and brought it over to the nest. Lexa had moved in the short time she’d been away, curling onto her side in a small ball as she shivered under the thick fur. Laying her palm on the sleeping girl's brow, she frowned as an unnatural heat radiated off the skin. Her exhaustion must have finally caught up with her, and being injured, as well as cold and wet, wasn’t helping matters. Opening her bag, she quickly withdrew bandages, needle and thread, salves, a couple cloths, and a canteen of water. She would need to work quickly if she wanted to be done before Lexa woke up.

Folding the fur down to reveal the brunettes top half but leaving her legs covered, she carefully removed the thin, damp tank top that clung to heated skin. Throughout it all the brunette remained silent and asleep, even as Clarke lifted her to remove the clothing. Leaving her chest bindings, Clarke still had a good view of the injuries that the shirt had covered. Deep purple bruises covered her torso, undoubtedly from the warrior who had kicked her, along with several smaller cuts.

An old bandage wrapped around her stomach, just above the waistband of her pants. With careful fingers she unwrapped the soiled cloth, wincing at the sight of dried blood and the stitched cut that marred her side. It looked to be an older wound, the edges puckered in the beginnings of a scar, but it was long and obviously deep if she’d needed stitches. The bitter smell of infection made her frown in concern. Swallowing thickly, she wet a cloth and ran it across Lexa’s warm skin, stripping away blood and dirt. Once she’d cleaned up as best as she could the blonde got to work, cleaning all the wounds she could see thoroughly, and applying salve and bandages as needed. Finishing her upper half, Clarke tucked the fur back around the brunettes shoulders and folding the lower half up to start on her legs.

Removing her pants was a greater challenge than expected, the fabric clinging tightly to her legs. She froze and cursed quietly as Lexa shifted, giving out a low groan. It wasn’t that she couldn’t explain what she was doing, the blonde would just rather avoid any awkwardness before they even had a chance to properly talk. Once the sleeping girl had settled again, she continued, peeling the fabric off, leaving Lexa in only her chest bindings and boyshorts.

The injuries on her legs weren’t terribly severe, but the leg that had been grabbed by the Pauna so long ago still held pale bruising in the shape of the beasts fingers. A low growl emanated in the back of her mind, her beast remembering the pleasure it had felt as the Pauna’s blood flowed under its teeth. The blood of one who had hurt what was hers. Shaking her head slightly in hopes of silencing the purring lion, she repeated the process she’d done on Lexa’s torso. Once she was done, bandages wrapped snuggly around a calf and ankle, soaking up the blood that flowed from a shallow wound and compressing the swelling of a minor sprain.

Packing up her things, she returned her bag to its corner before returning to Lexa’s side. The brunette was still curled and shivering. Wrapping another fur around the trembling girl, she sighed quietly. She’d seen Lexa as an almost indomitable figure before, unfeeling and logical, but now, having seen her cry, cry for Clarke no less, and tremble in both fear and pain, that image was shattered. Seeing her so weak and small, it took all the energy she could muster to feel even a sliver of anger. Standing, she slid off her clothes, folding them in a neat pile next to the nest before transforming.

Her beast purred as she curled around Lexa, taking up the rest of the space in the nest, and moving a paw to cradle the small human girl to her side. The brunette let out a sigh, rolling over to nestle against her warmth. Her purrs only grew louder as limp fingers threaded themselves into her fur. Breathing a deep huff, Clarke let her eyes droop. While her emotions were still conflicted, the feeling of Lexa safe and pressed into her side felt good. It felt right, and while she’d questioned her beast in the past, suppressing its instincts and urges, she’d learned to trust it during her time in the wild, having found it was generally right in its feelings. Huffing once more, she settled further, nuzzling the top of Lexa’s head lightly before laying her own head on the furs and closing her eyes. She’d unravel her emotions once Lexa had awoken and they’d both rested well. Sleep was what was needed now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to send in a prompt, have questions about my fics, want to talk about writing, or want really inconsistent updates on my progress, come follow my tumblr @GillyTweed


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa wakes up for the first time, there's some introspection on past events, Clarke cares for Lexa, and some surprise visitors appear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter! On Tumblr I did a bad and posted the wrong one (the one after this one), but I replaced the chapter pretty quickly so luckily only a few people got spoiled. Also, for those who don't follow my tumblr, my posting speed will be going down due to some personal issues I need to deal with, but with any luck I'll be back to normal soon.

An Injured Lion Still Wants to Roar Chapter 3  
Pairing: Clexa  
Rating: Children be Wary (K+)

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Lexa blinked blearily as her body forced her into wakefulness. Groaning slightly, she curled tighter into herself, not wanting to leave the comfort and warmth she was feeling. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. Sure, her body ached and her wounds stung and her head pounded uncomfortably as her body radiated with heat, but she was wrapped in a pocket of softness that she never wanted to leave. The only thing that drew her from her cocoon was the sounds of familiar chuckles a little ways away. Lifting her head from the furs, her eyes zeroed in on the sight of a familiar blonde, now fully clothed, watching her with an amused grin.

“Clarke?”

She asked in a shaky, rasping voice. In return, she got a smirk paired with a nod, sending a shiver down her spine.

Clarke was alive. She hadn’t dreamt her kneeling next to her, wiping the mud from her face and ensuring she could breath. Clarke was alive and not dead like she’d thought. At the realization, she choked on a small sob.

Clarke was alive

Pressing her face into the furs, she struggled to hide her tears. The feeling of Clarke sitting beside her and tucking hair away from her face only made her cry harder. Gently, the blonde guided Lexa’s head into her lap, running soothing fingers through her hair and brushing away tears as they fell. Eventually, her sobs tapered off into gasping hiccups, leaving her limp and exhausted once again. Clarke simply waited, watching with caring eyes.

The brunette couldn’t understand it. She’d betrayed her, left her to die with the rest of her people, and forced her to kill an entire population, so she couldn’t understand how Clarke could act so caring towards her betrayer. If Lexa had been in her place, she would have wanted revenge. She still held a grudge for Costia’s fate years later, long after she’d been dead and burned, but here was Clarke, less than half a year after being betrayed, caring for the one who broke her heart. She’d expected her to be angry, full of rage and seeking vengeance, yet she looked almost at peace. Swallowing, Lexa looked up at the blonde, head resting on crossed legs. She felt so tired, knowing she could easily fall back asleep if she closed her eyes, but she wanted to drink in the sight of the girl above her. Lifting a hand, she brushed the tips of her fingers against the smooth skin of Clarke’s cheek, afraid that this was a dream waiting for the most horrible moment to wake her up.

“Clarke...”

Her voice was quiet, and her lip trembled ever so slightly as the blonde brought her own hand to cover the one on her face, pressing the older girls palm against her cheekbone. The gesture made her think of forgiveness, as though Clarke held no grudge towards her, and it made the guilt inside her chest grow, closing her throat and bringing a fresh wave of tears.

“Clarke, I am so sorry, I didn’t want-”

A gentle shush and a hand stroking her face silenced her.

“We’ll talk about it later. For now, just rest and heal.”

The blonde threaded their fingers together and brought their joined hands away from her face. Giving Lexa’s hand a squeeze, she carefully removed herself from under her head, laying it back down on the furs before standing.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lexa wanted to call her back, afraid that if she let the other girl out of her sight, she would disappear, that it would all be revealed as a dream. Swallowing, she closed her eyes, gripping the furs to ground herself.

When the blonde had disappeared she’d put on a strong front, making it seem as though she were unattach and unaffected by the girl’s assumed death. Only later, once she’d left Polis, Titus and the politics behind, as she’d travelled to Arkadia to deliver news of Clarke’s demise, had she let herself grieve. She could still remember the weight in her chest, the burning tears and deep sorrow, and the heart broken wail of loss she’d allowed to escape once she’d retired to her tent. The blondes disappearance had hurt her more than any physical wound could, and despite the younger girl being only meters away, that pain had yet to lessen.

It didn’t take long for Clarke to return, but every moment was filled with fear, a fear that only elevated when the blonde was once again kneeling beside her, a bowl of fragrant soup in one hand. With a groan, she attempted to sit up, but a wave of pain through her torso had her laying back down with a pained whimper.

“Careful, you have some pretty severely bruised ribs.”

Setting the bowl aside a safe distance away, the blonde lifted the injured girl carefully, resting Lexa’s back against her front, before leaning against the edge of the nest of furs. Feeling Clarke so close, the brunette couldn’t help but sigh as an arm snaked around her waist, supporting her as the younger girl reached for the bowl of soup.

“You need to eat. You were asleep for over a day.”

Despite the ache that it sent shooting through her body, Lexa turned quickly to look at the blonde, remembering the battle, the lion, and all that came before.

“The battle! What- and the lion? Where is it?”

Clarke quirked her lip, a humoured breath escaping from her nose.

“I don’t know how the battle ended, but after I took you from the battlefield I’d assume it stopped.”

Lexa was unsure of how to respond, so she looked at the blonde, eyes wide and confused as she tried to understand her words.

“So, then you’re…”

The younger girl nodded, one eyebrow raised and a teasing smile on her lips.

“A lion? Yes, I am, as was my mother before me and her mother before her.”

The injured warrior could do nothing but stare in disbelief, jaw opening and closing as she tried to formulate any form of coherent thought. As she continued to gape in astonishment, Clarke adjusted herself into a more comfortable position, pulling Lexa closer and grabbing the bowl of soup. The brunette let the younger girl move her without protest, slumping into the blonde as she sat in her lap.

She could believe that Clarke was alive. She could maybe, sort of, believe that Clarke wasn’t entirely angry with her, and possibly on the way to forgiveness. However, she had to draw a line at the blonde turning into a beast large enough to carry three people on its back without effort. It just wasn’t possible. Clarke was many things. Wanheda, the destroyer of the Mountain, the Skaiprisa, the girl that fell from the sky in a rain of fire, but a lion? No… she couldn’t believe it, surely it was a joke.

Lexa snapped from her thoughts when the smell of the soup wafted in front of her nose. Blinking, she realized that the blonde held a spoonful of the food before her, holding it carefully near the brunette’s lips. Frowning slightly, she lifted her arm to grab the spoon but winced as pain burned up her sides and through the muscles of her arm. Clarke tsked, using her free hand to restrain her limbs in a less strenuous position.

“Let me feed you. You’re injured and moving too much will only make it worse.”

She opened her mouth to protest, only to find soup there instead of words. Clarke had taken the opportunity to feed her a spoonful. While the soup was delicious, a mixture of local herbs, roots and wild onions, she couldn’t help the pout that formed on her lips. She wasn’t so weak that she couldn’t feed herself.

“Clarke, I am not an invalid. I can feed myself.”

She said indignantly as she dodged the next spoonful. Clarke rolled her eyes at the older girls childishness.

“You are currently the definition of invalid. You can’t even lift your arms without it hurting, so, instead of being the stubborn leader you are, let me take care of you.”

Feeling too tired to argue, Lexa slumped further against the younger girl, pouting as she was fed spoonful after spoonful of the grudgingly delicious soup. It didn’t take long for the bowl to be emptied, and, even after the short amount of time, the brunette could feel her eyes drooping once again. She felt Clarke shifting against her, moving the bowl away before wrapping her arms around the older girls back and under her knees.

As the blonde moved her, laying her back down amongst the soft furs, the large skin that covered her shifted slightly, making her shiver, as well as drew her attention to her state of undress. Looking blearily at herself, she took in the dark bruising that took up most of her skin, dark patches of purple and blue covered more of her than her normally pale colouring. She didn’t look away until Clarke rewrapped the fur around her, covering her injuries and enveloping her in warmth.

‘I guess I’m more injured than I thought…”

Her thoughts were interrupted by a jaw cracking yawn, her exhaustion becoming more evident by the minute. Gentle fingers began combing through her hair, the sensation drawing a pleased hum from her throat. She was so tired. A warm darkness, different from the heat of her fever, crept at the edge of her vision, pulling her deeper into sleep.

“Sleep, Lex. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

When she woke next, the warmth that surrounded her had become soothing, the comfortable heat almost dragging her back into unconsciousness. She was still wrapped in furs, curled against the edge of the nest. A gentle rumbling had her eyes fluttering, squinting against the harsh light streaming from the roof. Grumbling, she burrowed back under the furs, not yet wanting to deal with the world. Only when the rumbling became more intense, a vibrating sensation coming from the wall of fur behind her, did she snap awake, eyes going wide as she scrambled away from the purring feline she’d been sleeping against.

With her frantic movement, the purring stopped, the lions large head lifting to look at her with worried eyes. The brunette sat pressed against the nests far wall, chest heaving in her sudden panic, and eyes wide as she stared at the giant beast before her. The lion whined low in its throat, but didn’t move closer. Instead it lowered its head, as though it was attempting to appear less threatening. A failed endeavour considering its massive size.

Lexa swallowed dryly, coughing slightly as her throat closed with fear. Despite Clarke telling her that she was the lion, the older girl still couldn’t believe it. She’d seen the creature behead a man with one swipe, felt the teeth that were larger than most daggers, and she’d seen it rip the Pauna’s arm off without effort. She couldn’t get the image of the lion’s maw dripping with blood out of her mind, making her recoil further when the beast moved to stand. The beast paused as she pressed further into the wall of furs, a sad sounding sigh heaving from its lungs.

The beast turned to her, it’s shoulders hunching as it stepped towards her. She pulled herself up against the wall, the piled furs reaching almost to her shoulder, preparing to run despite knowing she had no chance of escape, then, before her eyes, it shrank, its muscles and bones compacting and shifting, its fur withdrawing into its body until only Clarke stood before her, naked and face adorned with a concerned look. The brunette ceased breathing as her brain tried to reconcile what she’d just seen. She’d been fully convinced that the younger girl had been joking.

Clarke rushed to her side as she swayed, dark spots dotting her vision as her lungs refused to take in air. The blonde supported the older girl as her knees gave out, lowering her to the floor slowly as her breaths came in shallow gasps. Cool hands cupped her face and a worried voice called her name.

She couldn’t understand why she was reacting this way or where this deep, intense, fear was coming from. She’d been given proof that Clarke was the lion. She should be able to accept it and move on, right? Apparently not, because she couldn’t seem to expand her lungs enough to take in air. Her heartbeat was in her ears, blood rushing too loudly for her to be able to hear anything else. Suddenly, Clarke’s face took up her slowly darkening vision, making her heart jump. She squeezed her eyes shut.

The fear that welled inside her just wouldn’t calm as minutes passed, and, while normally it would relax her, Clarke’s presence seemed to heighten her terror. Memories of gleaming teeth and bloodied claws flashed through her mind. A choked sob escaped her as she realized where her fear was coming from.

She was afraid of Clarke

Or rather what she was capable of. She’d never thought that she would fear Clarke. The gentle healer and strong leader seemed incapable of truly hurting another without an extreme reason, yet she’d seen Clarke tear a creature limb from limb, savaging its throat until blood pooled into a crimson pond. She’d seen her behead a man with one swipe of her powerful paw, roaring in triumph as the warriors of Trikru and Azgeda looked on. The fact that Clarke had become capable of such brutality scared her, and she couldn’t shake the choking feeling that she was somehow responsible for the development.

Slowly her breathing evened, the darkness retreating until she could blink tiredly up at the cave roof. At some point, Clarke must have laid her down and retrieved her clothing, placing her head to be cushioned by the blonde’s now pant clad lap. A small hand was placed on her chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her slowly normalizing breathing, and another was gently running through her hair, scratching her scalp with blunt nails.

“Lex?”

Her name was said tentatively, multiple questions in a single word. In response, she managed a shaky groan. Her panic had drained what little energy she’d gained from sleep, leaving her tired and limp with exhaustion. She hadn’t felt such a surge of emotion and panic in a long time, not since discovering Costia’s murder and what it had entailed. Arm shaking, she brought a hand to scrub at her face. She could feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks and the heat of her distress radiating from her skin. Swallowing thickly, she let her hand drop to her chest, laying it atop Clarke’s.

“I am so sorry, Clarke. I didn’t mean to turn you into this.”

A frown of confusion creased the blonde’s face, coupled with a sadness taking over the depths of her eyes. The hand that ran its fingers through her hair moved to cup her jaw, running a gentle thumb over the ridge of her cheek bone.

“I was born this way, Lexa. I have always been a beast, I’ve just restrained it until now. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, if you will.”

The brunette could feel her jaw tremble ever so slightly as she gazed up at the blonde. She wasn’t sure if the younger girl understood what she meant, and accepting her answer felt like an easy way to assuage the guilt swirling in Lexa’s chest.

“I don’t-”

“Daaaamn Griffin, you’ve made a love cave. Nice!”

A sudden and new voice resounded around the cave, echoing off every surface, making Lexa jolt in shock and groan as her muscles screamed in protest. Clarke’s face had morphed into a harsh snarl at the interruption, eyes flashing a harsh yellow and features becoming distinctly feline, as she returned the brunettes head to the furs before standing and stalking into an obviously defensive position between her and the new arrival.

“What do you want, Raven?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to send in a prompt, have questions about my fics, want to talk about writing, or want really inconsistent updates on my progress, come follow my tumblr @GillyTweed


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's side of Lexa's reaction to her lion. A wild Raven and Octavia appear, and an explanation as to why Werecreatures never happened before the Mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprisingly productive yesterday, so y'all get another chapter before my writing speed undoubtedly goes down. I think people will really like this chapter :3

An Injured Lion Still Wants to Roar Chapter 4  
Pairing: Clexa  
Rating: Children be wary (K+)

* * *

 

Clarke slumped guiltily, lowering her head, as she watched Lexa press herself against the nests edge, a low whine escaping from her feline throat. She should have known better than to be in her lion form when Lexa woke next. The sight, for one who was unused to it, was quite shocking, as the brunette had demonstrated. The blonde stood, worried, as the older girl coughed and swayed, transforming to her human form in hopes of defusing the situation.

It had been a few days since she’d brought the injured warrior to her cave, the other girl shifting in and out of lucidity since the first time she’d awoken. She’d slept for the majority of the time, but had been conscious enough for Clarke to feed her and help her out into the woods to obey the calls of nature on multiple occasions. The blonde had even managed to give her a bastardized version of a bath in the pool of water at the back of the cave, ridding her of the mud matting her hair and cleaning her injuries more thoroughly than with a simple cloth.

The fever that had been running rampant through the brunette had only broken the night before, so Clarke supposed she shouldn’t be that surprised that Lexa didn’t remember the majority of the last few days. Her face creased into a frown of concern as the older girl swayed once again, rushing forward to catch her as her knees gave out. The blonde lowered her charge slowly to the furs, cupping her face in an attempt to get her attention. The scent of fear rolled off of her in waves, choking the air around her.

“Lexa, breath. Come on.”

Her words only seemed to make it worse. The brunettes breaths came in short, sharp gasps, ones that were surely painful and seizing. Lexa clamped her eyes shut, clutching at the furs with pale hands as she trembled. Clarke grabbed her clothes from where she’d thrown them over the edge of the nest, slipping them on as she moved to support the older girl’s head and lower her to lay down. The sight of Lexa panicked and afraid was painful. It made her heart seize in a vice grip, the ache becoming more intense as she acknowledged that she was the cause of such fear.

As time passed, the brunettes breathing became more regular, less stuttery as she calmed. Clarke placed a tentative hand on her chest, feeling the slight jump of each harsh breath, and the slowing beat of her heart. Her other hand gently combed its fingers through tangled locks, scratching lightly in an attempt to soothe and distract from the pain. Eventually, Lexa blinked up at her tiredly, eyes dim with exhaustion.

“Lex?”

She asked hesitantly. The brunette’s scent of fear had dulled, being replaced by the sharp tang of distress and sorrow. She wanted to ask so many questions. Was she alright? Could she do anything? Was she in pain? Did she want to talk about what happened, or leave it for another time? She wanted answers, but also didn’t want to overwhelm the tired girl. A groan was the only response at first, silence stretching between them for several minutes before Lexa moved to scrub at her face, wiping away the tears that had streamed down her cheeks. The brunette dropped her hand to cover Clarke’s before speaking.

“I am so sorry, Clarke. I didn’t mean to turn you into this.”

The blonde’s frown deepened at her words. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was referring to, but whether it was her ability to turn into a lion, or her displays of, seemingly, newfound brutality, it was explained by the same thing. Slowly, she moved her hand to cradle the older girl’s jaw, thumb whispering over the smooth skin of her cheekbone.

“I was born this way, Lexa. I have always been a beast, I’ve just restrained it until now. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, if you will.”

She could feel Lexa shiver under her touch, jaw trembling as she searched for the words to respond.

“I don’t-”

“Daaaamn Griffin, you’ve made a love cave. Nice!”

An angry snarl ripped from her throat at the interruption. She could feel her eyes flash as her lion roared angrily within her. It was displeased by both the disturbance and the invasion of it’s territory. Placing Lexa’s head back amongst the furs, she stood, shoulders hunched as she stalked threateningly towards the new arrivals, placing her body deliberately between them and her human.

Raven stood smirking at the entrance to the tunnel, eyes scanning the space gleefully. Octavia stood beside her, slipping on a shirt and pulling her arms through the sleeves. The younger brunette must have transformed, being another one of the few Shifters on the Ark, and acted as the mechanics form of transportation, seeing as the older girl could no longer do so herself after her leg injury. Clarke snarled as they stepped further into her space, making them pause. The growl held a warning, conveying her vexation at their presence, as well as threatened harm should they continue on their current path. Octavia held up her hands in a sign of surrender, but Raven simply smirked, cocking a hip as she crossed her arms.

“Abby sent us. You know, generally when a giant lion kidnaps the leader of the grounders word travels kinda quickly. You should know better than to draw attention to yourself like that.”

The blonde growled again, even louder than the first. She’d known that running onto an active battlefield and taking Lexa would draw attention, but she, and her lion, hadn’t cared. So long as Lexa was safe, she didn’t care, consequences be damned. At her growl, Raven frowned, stepping back and breathing deeply to scent the air. Octavia did the same, watching the blonde suspiciously out of the corner of her eye as she inhaled. The two girls shared a look before backing slowly towards the entrance.

“Okay, Princess, I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking, but okay. I’ll tell Abby what you’re doing, but have you told her-”

The mechanic motioned to Lexa, who had somehow managed to stand behind her.

“What you’re doing?”

The growl, that had come out as an almost constant since the duo had arrived, stuttered in her throat. The slight interruption told the mechanic all she needed to know, drawing a disapproving frown onto her face.

“Tell her soon, Clarke, or this could get messy. Remember the 45’ Law? There are rules for a reason. You can’t just claim someone without saying anything.”

The blonde swallowed as they left hurriedly, muscles tense and eyes wide. Confusion rolled off Lexa in waves, growing stronger as she stepped closer, placing a tentative hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. The contact quieted her lion slightly, allowing her human mind to absorb Ravens words.

45’ referred to an event on the Ark during the year 2145 that had had the potential to be catastrophic had it not been stopped in time. While the Shifter population was small, maybe one for every fifty people, their presence had a great effect on the running and laws of the Ark. Their existence had influenced the decision of creating the ‘One Child’ rule, as well as the changing of the ration size regulations, and the event of 45’ had been the final straw for creating the ‘Shifting Ban’ or the more official name The 45’ Law.

Shifters were inherently territorial, it didn’t matter if the animal one shifted into was naturally territorial or not. Each Shifter was taught to control their instincts, as a battle between two giant beasts would spell disaster for both the Ark and anyone present, however, that didn’t always stop slip ups. She’d been fifteen at the time, only just coming into her own ability to shift, when it happened. From what she understood of the public report, a Shifter had been dating a non-Shifter. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, considering the imbalance of population, but the difference in nature's almost always created some form of confusion.

Such as when courting, Shifters would scent mark the one they were seeing. The marking itself was harmless, simply a scent that clung to the marked person to ward away anyone else that might show interest. Of course, normal humans couldn’t smell or detect such a thing, which had led to the disaster that had been dubbed simply as 45’.

  
A regular human had attempted to flirt with the marked individual, who had reciprocated playfully unknowing of the scent mark and it’s meaning, leading to a fight with the Shifter which had escalated far beyond what normal human guards could handle. The Shifter had transformed, becoming some form of canine, leading to the deaths of at least one Shifter and three civilians. The event had led to the ‘Shifting Ban’.

It hadn’t really been a ban per se, considering that the council had ordered all Shifters to be outfitted with chips that prevented shifting alongside the standard birth control. She herself had ripped the chip out once she’d left Camp Jaha, fully intent on shifting to escape her pain and suffering.

Swallowing thickly, she turned to look at the brunette that continued to gaze at her in confusion. Taking in a deep breath, she scented the air, taking in the earthy aroma of Lexa and her own scent that clung to her. The smell of the mark made her lion purr. She’d been scent marking the older girl since she’d taken her from the battlefield. At first not consciously, she’d assumed it was the close proximity, but as time went on she’d found herself simply holding the brunette or curling around her to sleep, purring as her own scent enveloped the other girl. Apparently, she’d done it more than she’d thought, as Raven and Octavia had been able to smell it from as far away as the cave entrance. Sighing, she stepped closer to Lexa, wrapping her arms around her waist until she had her firmly in a hug.

“We need to talk.”

She said this quietly as she burrowed her face into the brunette’s neck. Lexa stiffened in her grasp, the smell of confusion and surprise, along with a slight hint of joy, swirling around her. Without speaking, she led them over to the nests edge and slid down to lean against the wall of furs. The older girl sat beside her, pulling a fur over to wrap around her still mostly bare frame.

“You understand I’m not human, yes?”

She didn’t look at Lexa, staring straight ahead at the far side of the nest, but felt the gentle nod. She chewed her lip, afraid to continue. On the Ark, Shifters were well known and understood, but on the ground, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure how the very human girl beside her would react at the explanation of her instincts. She was afraid of how she would react to hearing the blonde’s desire to mark her, claim her, protect her, and be solely hers. Her desire to tear apart anyone who threatened her, to unabashedly, aggressively and publicly stake her claim on the brunette. She was afraid she would recoil, be disgusted by her instincts and nature.

“My kind is different from humans…”

She began slowly, choosing and weighing each word carefully.

“We are extremely territorial. Our beasts, when they consider something theirs, are willing to fight to the death to protect it, and when they consider something theirs they mark it… I mark it.”

She turned her head to look at Lexa out of the corner of her eye. The brunette listening attentively, her brow ever so slightly furrowed. The scent of confusion had turned into barely suppressed excitement. The smell was electrifying, sending shivers of anticipation down the blonde’s spine. She didn’t allow herself to think about what the change could mean.

“We mark in couple of ways, through scent… physically.”

She couldn’t stop her eyes from travelling to Lexa’s bare neck, watching as her throat bobbed gently. The next few words stuck in her throat, mouth suddenly dry.

“I would like to apologize, because I have scent marked you without consent…”

The rest of her sentence faded before she finished, hoping Lexa would understand. While she did still hold some anger for Lexa’s abandonment at the Mountain, she understood her decision. It was one she would have made herself if she was in the same situation. Her understanding didn’t stop the spark of anger, but it did allow her to give forgiveness, although the insistent pining roars of her lion did help with that as well.

“But… you said not yet, and after the Mountain…”

The brunette sounded almost hopeful, her eyes wide as her gaze searched Clarke’s. The blonde had to restrain herself from leaning over to touch the older girl, the mere inches of separation making her skin crawl.

When she had said ‘not yet’ she had been working through hundreds of things. The loss of Finn, the war, the fact that she was actually on the ground. Her lion hadn’t helped in the matter, rumbling and roaring in the back of her mind, telling her to take what was obviously offered and what she desired. She’d ignored it’s cries, controlling her instincts with an iron grip. Now, after living as a beast and realizing how fleeting life could be, she had every intention of seizing her opportunity for happiness with both hands.

“What you had to do at the Mountain was necessary. You saved hundreds versus the hundreds we would have lost had you not taken the deal.”

Tentatively, she reached a hand up to cup the brunettes jaw, drawing her closer so she could rest her forehead on hers. She swallowed thickly with nervousness, her eyes downcast.

“And ‘not yet’ didn’t mean never.”

Lexa’s breath seemed to catch at her admission. Her scent changing to become an indecipherable mixture of emotion. A few moments pass, the blonde feeling more anxious by the second, but it all quickly drained away when she felt the soft pressure of lips on her own. Her lungs seized for a moment, a small sharp inhale before she breathed out in one long exhale through her nose.

Their lips molded together perfectly; even more perfectly than the first kiss they’d shared before the Mountain. It was a warm, intimate sensation that had them both shifting to be closer. In mere moments, the temperature of the air rose noticeably, their movements unhurried but intense as they pressed further together. A slow, languid swipe of her tongue on Lexa’s lower lip had the brunette whimpering.

Gently, Clarke pushed against the other girl’s shoulders, rolling her onto her back so the blonde could hover above, their lips still locked. Lexa gripped at her sides, hands wound tightly in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her closer so their bodies were flush against each other. Eventually, they separated, gasping for breath. They remained close, Clarke dragging her lips across the heated skin of Lexa’s jaw until her lips rested above a hammering pulse point. A teasing scrape of her teeth over skin had the brunette shivering, arching up as a breathy moan escaped trembling lips. A pained gasp had the blonde drawing away quickly, looking down at the girl beneath her with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice was husky and breathless but filled with worry. Lexa was tense beneath her, breathing heavily, eyes screwed tight. After a moment, she relaxed but her jaw remained tense, like she was warding off the last waves of pain. The blonde rolled onto her side, leaving about an inch of space between them. Her fingers gently brushed against the flexing muscles of the brunettes face, stroking rhythmically until the tension slowly drained away.

“I’m alright. Just sore.”

Hearing Lexa’s voice had Clarke slumping in relief. She’d been afraid that she’d somehow hurt the other girl, who’s injuries she’d irresponsibly forgotten about in their passion. The sight of Lexa’s face twisted in pain made her heart twist painfully and sent her lion into a protective fit. Sighing tiredly, she nosed at the older girl’s jaw, eyes closed, as she edged closer, an arm wrapping tentatively around a bruised waist.

“Would you be… willing to continue… this, once you’ve healed enough?”

She could feel Lexa smiling as her lips grazed against the corner of her mouth.

“Of course, Clarke. I would like nothing more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to send in a prompt, have questions about my fics, want to talk about writing, or want really inconsistent updates on my progress, come follow my tumblr @GillyTweed

**Author's Note:**

> Want to send in a prompt, have questions about my fics, want to talk about writing, or want really inconsistent updates on my progress, come follow my tumblr @GillyTweed


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